


Caught on Camera

by dragoninatrenchcoat



Series: Out of the Nick of Time [2]
Category: Forever (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26040979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragoninatrenchcoat/pseuds/dragoninatrenchcoat
Summary: What if Paul killed Henry in front of the camera?In Episode 2, Look Before You Leap, Henry is threatened at knife point in front of cameras. I bet we were all hoping, just a little, that he'd be killed there... or was that just me?Disclaimer: this is not guaranteed to be a reveal. Like all OotNoT stories, I recommend rewatching the correlating episode just before reading the story, but that’s certainly not required.
Relationships: Abe Morgan & Henry Morgan
Series: Out of the Nick of Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1880338
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

The elevator was just up ahead, around the corner. If she was right about the floor they were getting off--and she hoped to God she was right--then they should have just enough time to-

The ding of the elevator. _Yes!_ Jo turned the corner and raised her gun in time to see Paul and Henry emerge as a too-close clump, pale against the dark window behind them. Paul turned so that Henry stood between them, one arm clutching him in place as a human shield; he held a silver precision knife to Henry’s throat, and he was trembling more violently than Jo found comfortable.

She focused her aim on Paul. “Drop the knife, now.”

“You drop the gun, I will slit his throat!” His eyes were wild with panic, and Henry kept casting furtive looks to the ceiling. She kept the focus of her aim on Paul, breathing evenly.

“I’ll do it!” Paul’s hand trembled. “You drop the gun!”

“Okay. Take it easy.” She held her hands up and Paul visibly deflated. If she could get closer to them, maybe in an arm’s reach, she could neutralize this without-

Mike appeared at the top of the opposite stairwell, aiming for Paul. “Drop the knife, I will shoot you!”

Paul tensed up again, whirling Henry around to face Hanson. “You want to dare me? I’ll kill him!”

Mike and Paul shouted, twisting Henry this way and that, leaving no easy line of sight. Henry started shouting for Mike to shoot through him; then the whole scene was cacophony, Jo shouting for Mike to ignore Henry, Paul and Mike demanding the other drop their weapons--

Paul made a jerking motion, and Henry peeled away from him and collapsed. Mike seized the opportunity to shoot in the exposed chest, and Paul hit the floor next to Henry, one arm reaching out toward the elevator doors.

“Henry!” Jo holstered her weapon and ran toward him.

He lay in a pool of dark blood, coughing, one hand on his neck, his eyes staring past her, latched with a desperate panic on the ceiling. “No,” he wheezed as Jo knelt beside him. “No, not here.”

“It’s alright, Henry, you’ll be okay.” It hardly registered whether she was trying to tell the truth; it was the only thing that could be said. She kept pressure on the wound while Mike called for a bus; Henry’s blood pooled around her knees, poured thickly over her hands. “You’ll be okay.”

“Not here. Oh, God. Not here. I’m sorry, Detective.” For the first time, he looked away from that point on the ceiling and looked at her. “I’m sorry...”

“No, Henry, you’re going to be fine. Listen to me. Look at me, Henry.”

He’d looked away. His eyes unfocused.

“No, no, Henry. Look at me.” She pressed more firmly on his neck. “Look at me.”

“Oh, my God,” Mike said softly.

“Henry,” Jo repeated, searching his dead eyes. “No, Henry, look at me-”

She fell forward and caught herself on the floor. Henry was gone. Actually gone; he was nowhere in sight.

Neither of them made a sound.

Her hands were clean. Paul’s dead body laid nearby, but his blood didn’t quite reach her. It pooled perfectly on the granite floor, like it had never been interrupted by anything else. The only thing left on the floor was Henry’s golden pocket watch.

Mike whispered, “What the...?”

She met his eyes. They’d both seen it. Henry... vanished.

The sound of sirens. EMTs burst into the room to find the two of them kneeling, dumbfounded, Paul’s dead body a few feet away. They went to his side.

Jo thought for a moment that they’d ask her about all the blood, but her hands and knees were clean. She picked up the pocket watch and stared at it.

_Not here._ Why had he said that? Why had he... Had he known that was going to happen? How? Was it some kind of disease? No, of course not. He’d been staring up at the ceiling...

She looked up, followed where his gaze had been.

A camera.

She needed to see what it had captured. The longer she waited, the more likely she’d think she must have been mistaken; she knew eventually she could convince herself that he’d just gotten dragged away or something while she wasn’t looking.

“Hanson,” she said, standing up. “Come with me.”

He stood up with her. “Jo, what... what-”

“Security room.” She looked up at the camera, and he followed her gaze. He nodded and they both set off.

#

“This is terrible,” Henry said, the moment he got into the car, his mouth caught in a hard grimace. “This is terrible. I knew cameras would be the death of me, I knew it. At first, I thought it’d be simple enough; just take one photograph every once in a while and make sure I knew where they were at all times. But then they invented the motion picture, and I knew, I knew one day it would come to this.”

“You were on camera?” Abe asked, worried.

He toweled off his hair. “Yes. And what’s more, I was in Detective Martinez’s arms.”

Abe whistled. “Where are you going to go?”

“We. It has to be we, Abe. I don’t want you to lose your place here any more than you do, but it won’t take them long to connect you to me. We both have to go.”

Abe nodded, looking tired. Henry let out a long breath and put his hand over Abe’s.

“I’m sorry. I was reckless, and now you have to pay for it. I am sorry, Abraham.”

Abe smiled and squeezed Henry’s hand. “Home is where the heart is. Let’s go.”

#

They kept rewatching it, over and over, standing there in the little security room. Wordlessly.

Paul slicing Henry’s neck open and dropping him, Mike opening fire, Jo running to Henry’s side. Mike’s silent phone call, Henry’s mutterings while staring directly up at the camera. Jo pressing Henry’s scarf against his wound. Then, Henry looking away, and dying.

Then he sort of winked out, like an in-camera edit, and it’s like he was never there. Nothing left but the pocket watch.

When all this started, they’d ordered the security officers to man a different floor, just in case Paul took Henry out of the elevator somewhere other than expected. As far as she knew, they hadn’t come back yet. They hadn’t seen it. Jo and Mike were, at the moment, the only ones.

“I still don’t know what I’m looking at,” Mike said numbly.

“Wait, look.” Jo rewound it and pointed to a movement: Henry’s hand, fiddling awkwardly with his waistcoat. Something fell and he relaxed.

“His pocket watch,” said Mike. “He was taking it out.”

The video showed him disappear again, leaving the watch behind. There was something about the way it laid there, alone on the floor.

“The subway.” Jo’s eyebrows went up. “The subway crash. Remember, we thought Henry had been on it?”

“Because you found his pocket watch on the scene. He said he’d gotten on earlier and must have dropped it.”

“But we know him now. He cares about this. You’ve seen how he looks at it; he’d notice if he dropped it.”

Mike shook his head. “I don’t think we can say we knew him. Even before... whatever this is. At least, I never got the feeling I knew him.”

Past tense.

“How do we know he’s dead?”

It wasn’t until she caught Mike frowning at her that she realized she’d said it out loud.

“We saw him die, Jo.”

“We also saw...” She gestured to the paused video.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t dead. You just want it to mean that. It could be anything.”

“Maybe.” She rubbed her thumb over the insignia on the watch. “But... what if he really was on that subway car?”

“What are you saying?”

“What if he was in the crash, and took the watch out of his pocket, like he did here?”

“Jo, listen to yourself. It’s much more likely that he did just drop his pocket watch by accident.” He sounded unconvinced, however, and rewound the video again.

#

“Wait a second,” Abe said, halfway through packing a box at the shop’s desk. He put his arm up to get Henry’s attention as he climbed the stairs from the basement, a wooden box in his arms. “Wait a second.”

Henry stopped at the top of the steps. “What is it?”

“What if you can nip this in the bud?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Abe turned toward him, setting down a VHS tape. “You died in Jo’s arms; I get that. That’s terrible. But depending on what camera it was... it might be possible to track down the video and delete it. What kind of camera was it? It wasn’t a cell phone, was it?”

Henry set down the box he was carrying. “No. Security system for a school building.”

Abe let out a breath. “Good. If it was put on Facebook, you’d be done for.”

“What? Oh, right--one of those websites.”

“Yes, ‘one of those websites’. But if it’s security, there’s a chance--” he put up one finger- “not a guarantee, but a chance--that they store the video onsite.”

Henry’s eyebrows shot up. “You think I might be able to break into the building and find it?”

“The sooner you try, the less likely it’ll be backed up somewhere else. It still might be.” He frowned. “Tell me more about this school, I can look around online to see what I can find. I’m not exactly a tech genius, but out of the two of us, I’ll have to do.”

“It doesn’t matter, Abe; Jo and Hanson both saw me disappear. I have to leave anyway.”

Abe let out a breath, hands resting on his hips. “Yeah, but people get over it. Cameras don’t. If you leave this video out there, it can come back to get you long after the two of them are dead.”

Henry frowned, disquieted. “All right. Let’s try it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jo stared into Henry’s eyes, where they locked onto the camera. He’d been terrified. She’d assumed he’d been terrified of dying, but... the more she looked at it, the more certain she became that he’d been terrified of the camera.

He’d known it was going to happen. That’s why he’d dropped the pocket watch. That’s why he’d said ‘not here’ _. _ How could he have known that? And what _ was _ it?

Mike lowered his voice, although as far as Jo knew, they were still alone. “What do we do with this video?”

“What do you mean?” She didn’t look at him, gaze locked on Henry’s eyes. She could even read his lips:  _ oh, God. Not here. I’m sorry, Detective. _

The video winked out. She blinked in surprise; the tape ejected and Mike took it out of the machine.

“What do we do with it?” he repeated.

“I- I don’t know. Bag it. Get a second opinion, maybe. If we take it to...”

“Who could we take it to?”

She didn’t have an answer. It was clear to her, now; Henry had known it was going to happen, and he’d been terrified of being caught on camera.

He wouldn’t want anyone to see it. But why?

“Another doctor, maybe,” she afforded. “Someone we can trust.”

“You really think whatever happened out there was biological?”

“I really think we should rule it out.”

A moment of silence. Mike held up the tape.

“We should keep this. We don’t have much time before someone notices we’re gone. We’ll keep this and close out the case. Then-”

“But what do we tell them about Henry? If we don’t show anyone the tape, then we can’t tell them he died. If we say he wasn’t there, then it looks like you shot Paul when he threatened you with a precision knife from ten feet away. We have to show them-”

“This isn’t something we’ve ever seen before, Martinez. It’s nothing we’ve even heard of. But it happened. That means one of two things: either it’s literally never once happened before, or someone out there is going to great lengths to keep it secret.”

“It must have happened before.” Jo found herself agreeing with him. “Because Henry knew it was going to happen.”

“Which means someone’s going to great lengths to keep it secret.”

“Which means if we show people, then that someone’s going to hear about it, and they’ll try to silence it.”

“We might never find out what happened.”

She looked at the blank screen, and nodded, her mouth twisted into a frown. “Alright. Let’s keep it between us for now. We’ll say...” She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll say we got the drop on Paul, and Henry was terrified and ran home before we could stop him.”

“I know it sucks, but it’s better than nothing.” He tucked the tape into an inside pocket.

“Why are you holding onto it? I can hold it.”

“Karen’s complained at length about the pockets on women’s clothes. If you try to hide this, you’ll look like you’ve grown a rectangular tumor.”

Jo chuckled. It was jarring; Henry had died less than an hour ago, and here she was, laughing. She sobered at the thought. “Let’s go. We’ll talk about it some more once everything here’s wrapped up.”

#

Henry looked like an idiot. He knew he did.

This place was full of cameras. He didn’t mind getting seen stealing the video, so long as his face was hidden. It didn’t matter if people knew that the tape had been stolen; without seeing it, they’d never guess what was on it. Except for Jo and Hanson, of course. What mattered was not being recognised.

So, he was wearing a zip-up hoodie. One of Abe’s; the grey one he’d gotten as a souvenir from a trip to Niagara Falls. The front only said ‘Niagara’, but the back had a colorful picture of several items going over the Falls, including a barrel, a safe, several boats--one of them aflame--and a few divers. It was a macabre souvenir; most everyone who had ever gone over the Falls had died in doing so.

The hood was big enough to cover his face, however, especially if he kept his head ducked. All he had to do was avoid being captured by the onsite security. Luckily, he already knew his way around the building. He only wished he’d taken note of all of the cameras.

Well. There was nothing to do now but begin. He opened a side door--unlocked, because people here liked to work late--and walked briskly through. Though he kept his head ducked, he tried to swing his arms confidently rather than tuck them into his pockets; better to look as much as possible like he was comfortable being here.

Abe hadn’t been able to determine the security protocols of the building. He had discovered which company they used, but that was it; the company’s website boasted many different types and levels of security, and there was no real way to know to which level the school had subscribed.

“Let’s just hope it isn’t the top one,” Abe had said, pointing to a section of the website. “Immediate upload of all security footage. If that’s the case, then you either give up, or try to track down their servers. I have no idea how you’d go about doing that.”

Let’s hope, indeed.

There were police officers stationed outside the first-level elevators. That’s right; Paul had been shot. If nothing else, they’d need to take photographs of the scene to back up Jo’s and Hanson’s reports.

What were they going to say? Would he have to break in to the precinct to steal the reports, too? No; police reports were only subjective versions of the truth. If what they saw came into question, only they would be able to back it up. Assuming they didn’t have the footage.

Henry backed away from the corner and headed instead for the stairwell. He took it as quietly as he could and sauntered toward the security room.

Voices from inside. He stepped back to listen; he only had moments, though, before they saw him on the video of the outside hall. Unless there wasn’t a camera here. He couldn’t remember, and he couldn’t risk looking. 

“...the hell?” It was an unfamiliar man’s voice. Henry’s breath caught in his throat.

“There’s no way,” said another unfamiliar voice. “Where could it have gone?”

The body. Henry’s body. Those two security officers were watching the tape. What could he do? What might they already have done with it?

“Who had access?”

“Oh shit, everybody,” said the second voice. “I didn’t lock it when the police ordered us upstairs. I mean, the guy had a hostage. A hostage! Shit like that doesn’t happen!”

“It obviously does, John. That’s a stupid thing to say. We need to track down that tape, the police are going to want it. Come on. Trace back the footage in the hallway- hey, who’s that?”

Henry turned and walked briskly, confidently away. Footsteps behind him, in the doorway to the security room.

“Hey!” called John’s voice. “Who are you? Come back here!”

Henry broke into a run.

His mind whirled as he leapt down the stairs. Someone had taken the tape. It wasn’t his body they’d been agonizing over, it’d been the footage of the shooting. Someone had already taken the tape.

Who? The man on the phone? How could he have gotten here so fast? How would he have known Henry would be here, or that he’d die? He’d seemed to know each other time, somehow. It was a possibility.

A student, maybe. Someone who’d been in the right place at the right time, and wanted blackmail material. Maybe. But most students in this building were likely to be more interested in the _ how _ , weren’t they? Maybe they’d show up to the precinct with the video later.

The precinct. Jo and Hanson had seen him. What if it was them? But why would they steal it when they could just request it, like the security officers assumed they would?

He burst through a crash door to find two more security officers waiting for him. He ducked out to the side and sprinted; one of them leapt and tackled, rolling them both to the ground.

Keep his face hidden. A public break-in was fine; he just needed to get out of here and burn the hoodie, and keep his face hidden.

He kneed the security officer and scrambled to his feet, kicked the one coming up behind him. It’d been a while since he’d done any real hand-to-hand, against people with real training. He managed to hold his own well enough regardless; fighting was a little like riding a bike in that way.

One of them he knocked against a wall. The other one wrestled him into a chokehold; Henry swept his foot back and knocked him off-balance; both of them crashed to the ground again.

Keep his face hidden. He kneed the guard in his sensitive place--winced and hoped he didn’t do any damage--and took off running again.

He unzipped and shrugged off the recognizable hoodie the very moment he felt comfortable, and beelined for where he’d stashed his bike. Time to burn the hoodie--Abe had agreed to that ahead of time--and come up with a Plan B.

#

Jo signed off on her report. A lie.

Nothing had felt real since Henry died and disappeared. Nothing at all. It’s like that moment in her life had crystallized and sent her veering off into some crazy alternate universe, and somewhere in the back of her head she knew she was supposed to get back to the real world. But that’s not how it worked; whatever had happened to Henry was real. The lie on her report was real. The videotape in Hanson’s jacket pocket was real.

The silence between her and Mike was palpable. Neither of them said a single word to one another while anyone else was in the room, like they couldn’t trust themselves not to talk about Henry.

No one else knew he was dead. Jo felt sick.

She kept seeing him fall, the awkward jerk of Paul’s arm. She kept smelling the blood, feeling the hot, sticky hair between her fingers as she cradled his head, as she pressed on the savage cut in his neck. Begging him to look at her.

“Martinez.” It was Lieutenant Reece’s voice. “Hanson.”

They looked at one another, an uncontrollable reflex, like two guilty teens. Then at Reece. What was she still doing here, at this time of night?

“This isn’t your responsibility, but I thought I’d let you know because it’s related to your case. There’s been a robbery. Specifically, the surveillance tape covering your shootout with Paul has been stolen.”

“Are there any leads?” Jo heard herself ask.

Reece nodded. “There’s footage of a man in a Niagara Falls hoodie sneaking around the building, but no ID yet. I’ll update you when the security footage is analyzed more thoroughly tomorrow. Don’t concern yourself with it; it’s a different case. You’ve closed this one. Good job.”

Jo nodded wordlessly.

Reece looked between them, nodded again, and left. Jo exchanged a long look with Mike, but neither of them said anything. Not yet. She couldn’t help glancing at Mike’s jacket, like the videotape might jump out on its own.

What had they done? Had they made the right choice?

#

Henry shut the door behind him, panting. “It was gone. Abe. Someone else stole the video before I got there.”

Abe’s eyebrows went up, and he stood from behind the desk. “Is that good? It means it won’t be uploaded, right?”

“Perhaps. Hard to say. But whoever stole the tape stole it because of what had happened; of that there can be no doubt. I can’t guess what they’re planning to do with it. Upload it themselves? Release it to the press? Blackmail me?” He ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. Then he stopped and stared out of the windows. “I shouldn’t spend any time in this room, not at night with the lights on. I’ll be upstairs. If the police turn up, try to detain them, and I’ll sneak out the back exit.”

“Want me to burn the jacket? I’ve already got a fire going outside.”

“Yes, thank you, Abe. Remember to break it apart as soon as you can, and once it’s all burned, hide the zipper.”

He tossed the hoodie to Abe and went upstairs. He needed to finish packing and finish thinking. He needed a next move for every possibility--and a way to discern which possibility he was dealing with.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike usually went straight home from work, and Jo usually stayed late; tonight, they got wordlessly into Jo’s car together, ensconced in the silent parking garage. As if they were still on duty.

“The man in the hoodie,” Jo said, almost immediately after Mike shut the door behind him.

“He’s the one keeping this secret. We were right.”

“But how did he know so quickly?”

“Where did Henry’s body go? Did it go anywhere, or did it just implode or something?”

“How did Henry know it was going to happen?”

“What if they see us on the security footage? If they find out we took the tape, they’ll think we’re covering up the cause of the shooting.”

Jo’s mouth snapped shut, and they sat in silence. She gripped the top of the steering wheel and pressed her forehead into her knuckles. “You’re right. I can’t believe this. Why did we do it?”

“Because if we didn’t, we’d never find out what the hell happened.”

They took a long moment, each thinking, taking the time to compose themselves.

“If Henry knew...” Jo looked up at him. “Do you think Abe might know?”

“Who’s Abe? Wait, is that the guy that owns the antique shop?”

“Yeah. As far as I can tell, he’s Henry’s only friend.”

“We’re going to have to tell him Henry’s dead.”

She started to reply, then closed her mouth. She thought again about the pocket watch on the floor of the subway.

_ Was _ Henry dead? What if... what if he wasn’t? Jo’s heart skipped a beat at the thought, insane as it was. But if the same thing had happened on the subway, and he’d come back from that...

How could they find out where he’d disappeared to, or if he’d reappeared at all?

She nodded. “Let’s talk to Abe. Tell him everything that happened, and see if he knows anything.”

“He’s not a doctor, is he? You wanted to rule out a biological answer.”

“I do, but...” She shook her head. “You were right. I think Abe might be our only option.”

“It’s late. Should we go tonight, or wait until morning?”

“I don’t know about you, but I won’t be able to sleep. I want to solve this fast. Besides, if Henry’s dead, I can’t imagine waiting ten hours to tell Abe.”

“Is he the next of kin?”

“I don’t know if they’re related. I can go through the personnel files to look for Henry’s emergency contacts, but I’ve never heard him talk about anybody else.” Jo thought about the woman he’d mentioned, but she was long gone. Possibly dead. “Either way, I think Abe’s really our best bet for getting a fast answer.”

Mike nodded. “Alright. I hope he doesn’t mind us waking him up in the middle of the night.”

“For news like this, he won’t.”

He grimaced. “Yeah.”

Still they lingered. To turn on the car, to go and do something about it; that would be like accepting the hefty reality of it all.

Henry, dead. Blood flowing steady from a sliced throat, the strained terror in his eyes. Jo could see them clearly, both in her own memory and from her rewatchings of the tape, the blood staining his lips as he muttered his regrets, his apologies, the desperation of it all.

His pocket watch on the floor of the subway. What if he’d just dropped it, like he’d claimed? Mike was right, it was more likely. Far more likely than something as impossible as what Jo still, somewhere deep, desperately wished.

If that unknowable twist of reality could mean anything fantastic, she hoped it could mean the life of someone as unique and compassionate as Dr. Henry Morgan.

#

Henry packed on autopilot. He’d done it so many times before that he hardly had to think about it.

If someone released the video to the media, there was nothing he could do. Go into hiding in a different country, preferably somewhere without Internet access, if such places existed anymore.

If someone tried to blackmail him with it, he could track them down and steal the video back, destroy it. That’s assuming the blackmailer could find him in the first place, if they didn’t try his work first. God willing, they’d send the demands directly to Abe. He could try surveilling the morgue to try to intercept any unusual packages, but it’d be dangerous. Better to run and hope.

If it was the man on the phone, then... well, then he was probably in good hands, ironically enough. Whoever it was, he’d said he was immortal, too. Whether or not he was telling the truth, Henry doubted he’d want the secret revealed either.

If it was Jo and Hanson...

Could it have been them? Part of him hoped so. It’d be a neat compartmentalization of his problems. But he couldn’t see either one of them performing that level of robbery; both of them were stand-up police officers. They would probably take the tape in to be analyzed, to find out a ‘real’ answer to what they’d seen. Put it in their reports and such.

Still. He needed to think through all the options. If it was Jo and Hanson that stole the tape, he could try to steal it back from them and destroy it. It’d be in the police station, or one of their homes. Hard to get to.

But how could he know which option he faced?

Henry finished packing and stood up, breathing hard, more from the stress than the exertion. It was clear: he was back to square one. The best option was still for Abe and him to leave. He should just write off the video completely, try to lay low, and hope nothing would come of it.

Abe had sounded so confident in his assessment that the video would come back to haunt him eventually. Abe was far from an expert on the Internet, but as he’d said, he was closer to being one than Henry was.

#

Jo and Mike pulled up to the curb across the street from Abe’s Antiques. The store light was off, the sign flipped to closed. Small wonder why; it was almost closer to morning than night. They were going to have to pound on the door to wake up Abe.

“Shit,” she sighed.

“You said it.”

They shared a glance. Jo nodded.

“You have the videotape?”

Mike patted his jacket. “Safe and sound.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

They got out of the car, crossed the street. Jo forced herself up the steps to knock on the glass door.

No answer. Of course not; it was the middle of the night. She knocked harder, waited a moment, and knocked harder still.

She’d known she’d have to bang on the door, but she’d rather it not have been-

A light turned on, and Abe appeared, fully clothed, from the back of the store. He made his way to the front door and opened it, and when he saw them he smiled.

“Detective Martinez!” he called out jovially, louder than she expected. “Nice to see you again. And you look familiar, but I’m afraid I don’t have your name.”

“Detective Mike Hanson,” Mike nodded.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I know it’s late,” Jo said, “but we... have some news.”

“Where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

He stepped aside, and let Jo and Mike through. They exchanged a short glance, then turned around to face Abe where he remained comfortably by the storefront window.

“You’ve got news?” he asked.

Jo cleared her throat. “Abe... you and Henry are... close, right?”

“We’re like family.” She saw a glint in his eye, a moment of dread. On some level, he knew what was coming.

This had been a bad idea. They shouldn’t have come here; they should have looked somewhere else for their answers.

Mike said, “Henry was... stabbed, tonight.”

Abe’s smile fell. “What?”

Jo forced herself to say, “He didn’t make it. I’m sorry, Abe.”

He swallowed, looking troubled. “Wow. Um. Are you sure? I mean, of course you’re sure. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t sure.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “And...”

She saw the sorrow in his eyes, and almost couldn’t ask the next question. How could she beg a favor from him, moments after telling him his roommate had just died?

“And what?” Abe asked.

“Well...” Mike started, but couldn’t find the words either.

Jo steeled herself. “I’m sorry to burden you with this, but I’m afraid we have some questions.”

“Questions? I don’t know much about Henry’s job.”

“No, it’s not about that. It’s...” She pressed her lips together. “Something... happened, when Henry died. We looked over the footage and we’ve determined that he knew it was going to happen, somehow. Since he seemed to know it was coming, we were... hoping it’s something that he might have shared with you.”

“There’s footage?” 

She looked to Mike, who took the tape from his pocket. Abe’s eyes went wide at the sight of it: proof that his roommate had died. She couldn’t force him to watch it. It wouldn’t be right.

“Do you mind if I watch it?” Abe asked.

Jo blinked, blindsided. The shock must have shown in her face, because Abe quickly continued.

“I know it sounds kind of creepy, but, well, you can say I’m a little like Henry, if you know him. I feel like if I don’t watch that tape, I’ll never really  _ know  _ he’s dead, you know? It’ll help me... process it.”

“It’s... graphic,” Jo said. “It’s not something you’ll want to see happen to a friend.”

Abe nodded soberly. “I know. I know that very well. I want to see it anyway.”

She exchanged a look with Mike, who shrugged.

#

Henry’s heartbeat picked up with every successive knock on the door. He should have left the moment he’d finished packing. He had enough cash squared away to get a plane ticket; he’d be able to find a redeye going somewhere, at this time of night. Let that be the deciding factor for his new home.

Then he heard Abe’s voice. _ “Detective Martinez!” _

“Oh, no.”

He grabbed his suitcase and made his way, as quietly as possible, to the back door.


	4. Chapter 4

Abe asked Jo and Mike politely to wait in the shop while he tidied up the apartment, not having expected company. It was a bit of a weird fixation, considering his roommate had just died, but everyone’s grieving process was different. Maybe he just needed a moment alone to prepare himself for the video.

“I’m not sure about this,” Jo said quietly, glancing around at the merchandise. “He might not know anything. What if we show him the video, and he’s just as surprised as we are? What do we tell him?”

Mike frowned. “I don’t know, I don’t think it’s so simple. He was kind of cagey, wasn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced around and lowered his voice, leaning toward her. “He didn’t actually answer your question, did you notice? He kind of ignored that part and focused on the fact that there’s footage. And now all he wants to do is watch his friend die?”

She matched his volume. “You think he wants to make sure that the video is what he thinks it is.”

“Maybe. He seems like a sweet old guy, but you can’t judge people by their age.”

She nodded. “You have a point. I wish you didn’t. If he... okay, if he’s surprised at the end of the video, we’ll just say it was a flaw in the tape and leave it at that, alright? If not, I’ll stay by him and you watch the exits.”

“Alright.”

Abe leaned in around the corner and beckoned for them. “Tape player was easier to find than it should’ve been,” he said. “This place needs some updating.”

Jo and Mike exchanged a glance, then followed Abe.

#

Mike didn’t sit when Abe offered him a place on the sofa. He remained standing instead, pacing just a little, until he stood out of sight of them both. Abe didn’t seem to mind. Good.

True to the spirit of this creepy little shop, they had the video queueing up on a vacuum-tube TV with a wooden frame. Jo made conversation with Abe, as far as that was possible; who knew what state he was in, having just learned his roommate had died.

Supposedly. Mike found it hard to read the guy himself. Something didn’t add up with him.

When he decided he could get away with it, Mike quietly wandered off into the apartment. He’d seen the video enough times and didn’t need to watch it again. Besides, he didn’t have much time; once it was queued up, the action itself would only last a few moments.

He didn’t really know what he was looking for. Something. Anything. Dr. Morgan was the only person they could bet on having known about what had happened; unfortunately, it’d happened after Dr. Morgan had died, so they couldn’t question him. All Mike could do was poke around in his things and hope he found something relevant.

Dr. Morgan. Dead. Mike wasn’t a big fan of his, but that didn’t make it any easier. The guy was smart, there’s no joking around about that. Weird and creepy as hell, but smart, and he’d saved Jo’s life.

Mike passed by a patio and glanced out to see a firepit burning. Dangerous to leave that unattended. Up ahead, a doorway looked like it led into a bedroom. If it was Henry’s, there might be something in there that would...

He stopped, there in the hall. The firepit. It wasn’t wood that was burning in it, at least not alone. There’d been a bulkier shape there. 

Mike retreated and crept outside, peering into the untended fire. No, that wasn’t just wood; Abe was burning some kind of cloth, sooty-black and unrecognizable between the flames. The only part left untouched was a section of grey sticking out over the side, one-half of a zipper lining the edge. By the thickness of the cloth and the hemming, it looked like it could’ve been a sweatshirt.

There was lettering on the spare section, in blue print: IAC, half of the C cut off by the zipper, and whatever letter was before the I cut off by the flames. Why would Abe set a sweatshirt to burn, and then leave it unattended? It seemed pretty irresponsible, for a guy in a house filled with old wooden stuff.

It clicked, suddenly. That wasn’t a C; it was a G. -IAG, short for NIAGARA. The guy who’d broken in to steal the video had been wearing a Niagara Falls hoodie.

Abe was the one trying to keep the secret. And Mike had left Jo alone with him; alone with proof that she knew it, too.

He turned on his heel and sprinted back into the apartment.

#

“Here it is,” Jo said, pausing the video with a dusty black remote. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

Abe nodded, his mouth twisted in a frown. “I’m ready.”

“Okay.” She hit play.

The video was, sickly enough, absolutely familiar to her. They’d rewatched it so many times that every moment was etched into her memory.

Paul and Henry come out of the elevator, stop, turn to face Jo. She puts her hands up. Mike appears, and Paul turns Henry to face him. Everyone starts shouting; no audio, but everyone’s shaking just a little, and Paul’s panic grows with each moment. Then, he breaks; his arm jerks to the side, drawing a red line across Henry’s neck, and Henry collapses, staring up at the camera. Paul has the briefest moment to look shocked before Mike guns him down.

They rush to Henry’s side. He stares continuously up at the camera, his facial muscles strained and taut. He mutters, visibly, if you look for it:  _ Not here. Oh, God, not here. I’m sorry, Detective. _

Jo begs with him for a few moments while Mike talks into his phone. Then all sign of him is gone.

She could have recited it with her eyes closed.

“Shit,” Abe faltered, one hand over his mouth. Jo paused the video on the arrival of the EMTs and put her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “I thought I was ready to see it, but I guess you just can’t be.”

“No, I guess not.” She frowned. “I... I have to ask, Abe. Do you know what happened at the end? Did Henry ever tell you?”

He was silent for a long moment. For each second that passed, Jo found herself feeling a little bit more hope. He knew. He probably knew. What happened at the end of that video wasn’t something anyone would have to stop and figure out whether or not they understood it.

Mike burst into the room behind them. “Jo, get away from him!”

She stood up from the sofa, turning to face him. “What, what is it?”

“It’s Abe. He’s the guy. I found a sweater burning in a firepit outside; it said Niagara on it. Abe’s the one that broke in tonight.”

Jo looked at Abe in time to see him wince.

He knew. Mike had been right; that’s why he’d wanted to see the video. To make sure he knew what was on it.

Jo swallowed. “Please, Abe. Tell us what happened. That’s all we want to know.”

She saw Mike rest his hand on his sidearm. He didn’t trust Abe not to try to kill her for what she knew. She didn’t know Abe very well, had only exchanged passing remarks with him, but she couldn’t bring herself to jump to that extreme.

Abe let out a long breath. “First, tell me the truth,” he said. “Who else has seen this video?”

Mike didn’t say a word. Jo could see a lie in his eyes; he didn’t want to cooperate, he didn’t trust Abe at all. Despite everything, however, she couldn’t say the same thing.

Jo said, “No one. Only me and Hanson.”

“Any other copies, or other angles of the same thing?”

“No. Not as far as I’m aware.”

“And you two were the only ones there when it happened.”

“Yes. The EMTs didn’t arrive on the scene until a few minutes later.”

Mike sent her questioning glances. Maybe he was right not to trust Abe, but Jo couldn’t shake the feeling that someone in whom Henry placed so much faith couldn’t possibly be a killer.

Then again, she didn’t know Henry as well as she thought she did. She didn’t know Abe at all.

Abe said, “It isn’t my story to tell, you know. I’ve never told it before, and I can’t help feeling it isn’t my place. But this is... unprecedented.” He wetted his lips, the same way that Henry did sometimes. “I’ll tell you. On two conditions.”

Jo said, “You want to destroy the tape.”

Abe nodded.

Mike startled and rounded the sofa. “Jo, you can’t be serious. We don’t know anything about this guy.”

“Were we really planning on showing that tape to anyone else?” Jo demanded. “You and I have watched it to death and back. We don’t need it as proof to ourselves anymore. If Abe can tell us the truth-”

“He might be lying. And then our only hope of knowing what the hell happened is completely gone.”

Abe stood up. “Give the tape to me. I’ll hold it in plain sight while I tell you the truth. When I’m done, and you’re satisfied with my answer, we’ll all go outside and burn it.” He shrugged. “Well, I will at least, but you can come along if you want to.”

Jo looked at Mike, who closed his eyes. “Fine.”

She turned to Abe. “What’s your other condition?”

“I want you to swear to me you’ll never tell another person. Not one single person outside of this room.”

She and Mike exchanged another look, this one in agreement. Neither of them were surprised by the request; in fact, they’d come to expect it.

Jo nodded. “Deal.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sparse few taxis out this late. That was just his luck, wasn’t it?

Henry stuck out his hand every time a yellow car drove by, but none pulled over. It’d be simpler to take the subway, but the cameras were closer and more common down on the platforms. He didn’t want to expose his face to any of them if he could avoid it. He needed to lay low and wait until he could conceivably be the son of the man in the weird video.

That would take decades. Abe didn’t have that long.

An overwhelming pain gripped his heart and stopped him in his tracks; the same serrated spear that pierced deeper each time he thought of his son’s inevitable death. He couldn’t run and lay low for decades. He couldn’t abandon Abe like that; he couldn’t bear to miss out on any additional moment of the boy’s life. Any torture that a government could devise for him wouldn’t come close to the pain he’d feel if Abe died alone.

He had to stay. He didn’t have a choice. Maybe he could move to a different part of town, call ahead whenever he visited Abe, just in case someone dropped by.

It’d be risky, to try to hide in the same town that already knew him. Beyond risky. But if he could do it anywhere, it’d be in New York City.

#

Abe said, “Henry can’t die.”

Jo’s heart fluttered.

He held up the tape. “Well, obviously, he can. But every time he dies, he disappears like that and comes back in the nearest big body of water.”

“Every time?” Mike asked. “He’s died before?”

Abe nodded. “A lot.”

Jo said, “He’s... Henry’s alive?”

“Very much so. In fact, right now he’s running like hell.”

“What?” she asked, alarmed. “Why? Where?”

“Why do you think?” He held up the tape again. “He died on camera. He thinks he’s done for. He’s trying to put as much space as possible between himself and this video.”

She remembered the fear in his eyes.  _ “Not here.” _ She’d been right; he hadn’t been afraid of dying, so much as dying in front of the camera. She’d been  _ right _ .

Henry was alive _. _

“But,” Abe continued, “if this is the only copy, and neither of you are going to tell anyone...”

“He doesn’t have to leave,” Jo finished.

Abe smiled. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mike said, turning to face Jo. “You believe this? This is ridiculous, Jo. It’s not possible.”

“The subway.” She took the watch out of her pocket. “Remember? I found this in the subway crash. I was right. Henry was there, too.”

“No, there’s still more of a chance he’d just dropped it. Abe’s lying to keep us from learning the real secret.”

“What makes you think it’s not possible?” She stood a little taller, stepping into his space. “You saw the same thing I did. He vanished. Completely gone; not a hair or a drop of blood left behind. How do we know what’s possible after seeing a thing like that?”

Mike opened his mouth and closed it. Then, he said, “How do we know Abe’s telling the truth?”

Abe said, “Let’s go find Henry.”

Mike turned back to look at Abe. “What?”

“Let’s find him.” Abe’s resolve firmed. “Let’s burn the tape and then go find him. I know which airport he would’ve gone to first.”

“Airport?” Jo raised her eyebrows.

“The first flight out he could find.”

“No,” said Mike. “I won’t let you burn the tape until I believe you.”

Abe hesitated. “Okay, so long as I’m the one holding on to it.”

“That’s fine,” Jo said quickly. Mike frowned at her.

“Come on,” Abe said. “The sooner we leave, the more likely we’ll catch him before he gets through airport security. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to spend three hundred dollars and get a pat-down just to find a runaway dead guy.”

#

Henry stopped a block down from the shop. Not two, but three figures left through the front door of Abe’s Antiques, and one of them turned back to lock it.

Abe was going with them? Why?

He started to panic. They were taking him in, weren’t they? They knew that Abe would know about him, and they were taking him prisoner, they were going to-

-no. _ Calm down, open your eyes. _ Abe wasn’t in cuffs; he wasn’t being handled or overly watched by Jo or Hanson. The three of them crossed the street, casual as old friends.

Where were they going? Why?

A voice behind Henry croaked, “Hey.” Loud as a car backfire. Henry whirled around to see a homeless man sitting up against the building, gesturing with one hand to an overcoat that was acting as a blanket. “You’re standing on me.”

Henry looked down to see that he’d trod on the overcoat. He stepped away and allowed the man to readjust the blanket. “My apologies, sir.”

“Sir,” the homeless man echoed, with a laugh.

Henry turned back toward the trio on the other side of the road, but they’d stopped moving. It was hard to tell in the lamplight, but it seemed like they were looking at him.

Shit. He shouldn’t have come back.

Trying to look nonchalant, he slipped into the nearest alley.

#

“Wait.” Mike stopped a few feet from the car. “There’s a guy with a suitcase.”

Jo followed his gaze and saw a shadow of a man, a dark shape holding a suitcase or large briefcase in one hand, disappear around a corner.

“That’s him,” Abe said, surprised. “What’s he doing here? He should be halfway to the airport by now.”

“That’s him?” Jo asked. Before Abe had a chance to answer, she was halfway across the street again.

“Jo, careful!” Mike called behind her.

She ran across the street, down the sidewalk, and around the corner into the alley. There was no one there.

“Henry!” she called, following the alley down to a dimly-lit backstreet. “Henry!”

“Henry, it’s alright,” Abe called out behind her, panting. “I’ve got the tape!”

She reached the backstreet and looked either way along it, a dark, narrow concrete path dotted here-and-there with dumpsters the way a park path decorated itself with shrubs.

A shape, up against the wall, past one of the dumpsters. She saw it move.

Behind her, Abe called, “It’s alright!”

The shadow stepped out, hesitant. The frame of a man holding a square suitcase. Jo swallowed.

Henry stepped into the light. Wary.

Henry was alive.

“Oh, my God.” Jo closed the distance and buried him in a hug.

She and Henry had never hugged before; they barely knew one another except for a shared history with grief. But lying on the cold granite floor with someone’s hot blood in your hands, watching them strain and fight against death itself, inherently raised the intimacy of any relationship.

“Detective?” he asked uncertainly.

She pulled away from him. It was like any other day; if she hadn’t watched him bleed out herself, she never would have guessed that he’d died only hours ago. He wore his usual suit, held an old-fashioned brown suitcase in one hand, and his eyes flicked between hers with a barely-suppressed fear.

“It’s alright,” she said, echoing Abe. “We have the tape. No one else is going to see it.”

He blinked, let out a breath he’d been holding. Relief washed through his eyes.

Mike had been right. Someone  _ was _ going to great lengths to keep this secret: Henry himself.

“You,” said Henry, glancing down the alley toward Mike and Abe. “You don’t... mind?”

“What, that you’re alive?” Jo laughed. “My God, Henry, I watched you  _ die _ . Of course I don’t mind that it didn’t stick. You’re alive!”

“I’m alive,” he echoed, with a weak smile.

#

They burned the tape. Detective Hanson looked on, like he didn’t want to take part in the... festivities, but he didn’t run off either. Henry resolved to corner him at some point and determine his plans. There was still the slightest chance that everything could go to hell.

But Jo didn’t mind. She didn’t have a problem with it. She and Hanson were the ones who had stolen the tape, not some blackmailer, not the man on the telephone. It had been them, operating on the astute assumption that bad things would happen if they let the video drop into the normal channels.

They barely knew him, and they’d saved his life.

He answered all of their questions. It was terrifying and liberating. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time; a century, at least. Maybe not since before he’d died the first time.

It was the feeling of getting to know someone, of them getting to know him. Like a first date, or strangers meeting on the street. He’d known Abigail for a long while before she discovered his secret; they’d already known one another well by then, and while it had been freeing to be able to tell her these things, it had still been very much in line with a friend divulging a secret.

Here, talking to Jo about his storied history, it felt more like he was introducing himself to someone for the first time. Telling his story the way he wanted it to be heard. And she believed everything he said--or at least seemed to.

Detective Hanson leaned up against a wall, frowning, but at least he didn’t throw his hands in the air and leave. In fact, when Henry admitted that Abe was his son, Hanson seemed to relax somewhat. As though somehow that was what convinced him that it was true, that it was alright.

“I... think I need some sleep,” Jo said, too far into the morning. “Today’s been...” She laughed. “It’s been something.”

“Please, stay here for the night,” said Henry. “It’s too late for you to be out driving. Either of you.”

Hanson shook his head. “No way. Thank you, but no. I need to get home to my kids.”

Henry nodded. “Understandable, Detective. I apologize for having kept you out this long.”

Hanson let out a laugh; it was the first time Henry had heard one from him tonight. “As much as it was your fault, Dr. Morgan, it obviously wasn’t your fault. No sweat.”

He relaxed. Jo stood up, so he stood up with her, and walked them both to the door.

She stopped and held something out to him. “I’ll see you at work?”

His father’s pocket watch sat snug in her fingers, the chain curled around it. Light wings fluttered against Henry’s heart. He recognized the feeling as something he’d long thought lost: Hope.

She wanted to see him at work. She knew his secret, and she wanted him to stick around.

“I’ll see you at work,” he echoed, and closed his hand around the watch. He felt himself smile, and Jo smiled back at him.

When the shop door closed behind them, he let out a laugh, mad and hopeful and relieved. Everything was alright. The worst had happened: he’d died on camera, he’d died in Jo’s arms, but--somehow--everything was going to be alright.


End file.
